The Classics Never Go Out of Style
by ANGSWIN
Summary: Part 8 of my "Sherlock's Rose" series...Rose has one more secret about her past to share with Sherlock. However, this one is about him!...*Roselock*


I had originally planned to put a much shorter version of this story in the "Moments Between Mysteries and Mayhem" collection. However, my muse insisted that I add more of the _emotional_ stuff in order to continue pushing Sherlock and Rose's relationship further along in the right direction. Therefore, "Classics" evolved into a full-length story on its own.

* * *

 **The Classics Never Go Out Of Style**

Rose was at 221B. Since they had started dating, she tended to spend most of her free time there with Sherlock. She loved the Baker Street flat and thought that it had so much more personality than her own generic one did. Therefore, she was currently draped over John's old armchair in Sherlock's lounge with a sci-fi romance novel in her hand. It had been written by a Tripurlian that had been relocated through Rose's Interspecies Relations department last year. The Trippie had been so appreciative of her help and kindness that she had dedicated her first novel to Rose and had hand(s) delivered it to her office the day before – even though it wasn't due to be released to the public for a few more weeks.

Rose had gratefully received the book even if she had later snorted in amusement at the author's pseudonym, Stella Armstrong. _Stella_ for the stars and _Armstrong_ because she had four arms! Anyway, even though Rose didn't usually read a lot of fiction, she was already halfway through this particular novel. She thought the plight of the alien refugee heroine forced to make a new home on an unfamiliar planet hit a little too close to home, though – probably for both her and the Tripurlian author. However, the story was quite engaging and suspenseful. It was also quite _graphic,_ as Rose found out when she encountered the love scenes _._ Apparently, one can get up to a lot more with four hands than with just the two that humans possessed! Consequently, Rose found herself blushing quite frequently and decided that she might need to take a break from trying to determine if any of those scenes could be reenacted with her favorite detective while using only the two hands with which she had been born. Not that they needed any help, though, she then thought with smug satisfaction. They had been _together_ for a few months at this point and they tried to spend the night together at least once or twice every week. Unfortunately, that was all that their mutually crazy schedules usually allowed. Fortunately, however, there had never been any cause for disappointment on those nights, and she realized that sleeping with a detective/scientist certainly had its advantages. It turned out that he was _very_ thorough when it came to researching exactly what she liked and then in testing his hypotheses over and over again until he could come to a definite conclusion as to the effectiveness of certain _techniques_.

Rose, lost in pleasant thoughts of the previous night, closed the book. She allowed it to fall, all but forgotten, down to the floor while she looked over at the subject of her rather vivid memories and fantasies instead. Sherlock was sitting in his usual chair facing her and he was reading some sort of Pathology journal that Molly had lent him earlier in the day when they had visited her at the morgue to check on a body. Since Sherlock had immediately deemed the cause of death too _boring_ to deal with, they had ended back up at Baker Street. They then spent this unexpected free time just reading in companionable silence for a while. Now, however, the sight of him reading threw a damper on her overheated imagination and libido and instead reminded Rose of the one secret that she still had not shared with him. She had not purposely tried to hide it from him. She just hadn't ever figured out just how to broach the subject.

"Have you changed your mind…already?" drawled the man in question – without ever looking up from his journal. "If that is the case, then I have to admit that I am quite disappointed."

"Changed my mind about what?" she asked, feigning innocence, when she realized that Sherlock had been observing her, too.

"Acting out some of the scenes from that book, of course!" he responded, still nonchalantly keeping his eyes on his own reading material.

"Why ever would you think that I had been considering such a thing?" she asked with mock coyness, knowing that the detective would never be able to resist giving her a full explanation. She was correct!

He closed his journal, set it on the side table, arched an eyebrow, and looked at her. "Well, you have only turned the page once in the last twelve minutes, plus you have looked up at me no less than five times within that same time frame. Judging from the rather attractive blush on your cheeks and the frequent glances at your hands, you were thinking about doing something rather naughty with those aforementioned appendages. However, unfortunately, your thoughts now seemed to have taken a more serious turn. Would you care to discuss it?" The first part of this speech was spoken in the same clipped tones in which he usually delivered his assessments. However, the last question was spoken in the softer and gentler tone that he normally only used when speaking to her.

Rose decided that it was time to tell him and sighed heavily before looking up into his eyes. "There is something that I feel like I should tell you. Actually, it is something that I probably should have already told you. However, the time never felt right and I just didn't know how you were going to react. Therefore, I kept putting it off," she admitted reluctantly.

"Oh," he said quietly and his hands automatically went up to steeple in front of his chin. Rose recognized it as his go-to thinking position. "Is it about your…past?" he asked curiously.

"Sort of…but not exactly, though," she said and sighed again. "It's really more about you."

Sherlock froze at those words. His heart started pounding in his chest and his thoughts started to race. Where was she going with this and why did she sound so serious? Was he about to lose her? Was she going to leave him? He knew that he was panicking because the last few months that she had been in his life had shown him exactly what his old life had been missing. She brought a new type of energy, a fire of sorts, to his world that had never been there before and he didn't think that he could do without her. Therefore, his eyes, almost frantically looking for reassurance, sought out hers - even while he forced his body to be still. An outsider would never have known that anything was wrong, but fortunately Rose knew him better than that. She saw the pain and insecurity that was present as soon as she looked into his eyes.

"Oh no, Sherlock!" she cried out. "It's nothing like that." With those words, she launched herself over into his lap and kissed him so deeply that his fears soon passed. He returned the kiss with relief and passion, until he finally had to pull away before things went so far that they would forget what they were talking about in the first place.

He smirked a bit at the little sound of disappointment that she made when he pulled away. He loved knowing that he could affect her in the same way that she did him. However, first things first - she had peaked his interest and now she had to explain what she meant. It was a mystery and he just could not let a mystery go unsolved, at least not voluntarily!

Therefore, he pulled her into a more comfortable position on his lap and rested his chin on the top of her head, which she had laid on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and almost sighed with pleasure at how right it felt to hold this woman. He knew that what they had was far more than just a physical relationship - even as great as that part was! They were connected in a way that he never thought he could be to another person and, consequently, he didn't know how to define it. However, he did know that it made him feel complete. _She_ made him feel complete and he never wanted to lose her. He really wondered if she felt the same way about him, but he just didn't know how to ask such a question. Even though he could face down a serial killer with very little trepidation, the thought of talking about the emotional side of their relationship terrified him. Therefore, he posed an easier question to her than the one that he really wanted to ask. "What did you want to tell me?" he inquired.

Rose snuggled into Sherlock's arms and could _feel_ the contentment coming from him. She smiled at the thought of his happiness as she laid her head on his shoulder and just basked in the good feelings that being with him brought to her, as well. Even though he could be difficult to deal with at times, he was really everything that she could want in a man! She also knew that she was well on her way to being in love with him – if she wasn't already there - and the thought terrified her! She hadn't felt this way about anyone since the Doctor and she just didn't know if she could survive giving away her heart again to someone who couldn't return the sentiment. She knew that Sherlock cared about her, and didn't want to lose her, but could he ever _love_ her? Did he consider this a long term relationship or just a pleasant diversion for the time being? Even though she yearned to know how he really felt about her, she knew that it was not something that they could discuss. He was just too _skittish_ when it came to his emotions and she wasn't willing to risk what they already had by pushing him too far. Therefore, she would try to be content with what they had for now, but maybe later….These deep thoughts, however, were interrupted by his question. She found that she just couldn't hold back a little laugh at his impatience. Of course, the tenacious detective in him wouldn't be able to let such a tantalizing mystery go until he knew what she had to say. Therefore, she obliged him - even though she struggled a bit at first as she tried to find the right words to explain.

"Remember when I told you about meeting my…um… parallel mother and father, and how we also met Mickey's parallel when we first came to this universe?" she asked hesitantly and then waited until he nodded before continuing. "Well, after I had been here for a little while – I did some research on my own. It turns out that everyone I knew in the other universe has or had some sort of parallel version here. I found out that some of them, like the parallel Jackie, died in the Cyber invasion. However, others were still out there living their lives. I even met a few of them and some of them ended up being quite different than I expected. For example, my best girlfriend, Shareen, was a party girl back there - living in the city, obsessed with her looks, going through one man after another, and never wanting to settle down. When I found her here, however, I was shocked to see that she was a happy plump housewife living on a farm with her husband and six kids!" She shook her head a little – still in disbelief at such a drastic change.

Sherlock took advantage of her pause. "You knew my parallel in the other universe, then?" he asked – getting right to what he thought was the heart of the matter. He only wondered why she hadn't brought it up before now.

"Well… yes…and… no," she said slowly. "The issue of you, and your parallel, is a bit more complicated than that." She smiled in spite of the difficulty she was having in explaining this. _Complicated_ was such a good word to describe basically everything that had to do with him, her, and/or their relationship. She shook her head at that thought and then sat up so she could see his face. Then she smiled at him and reached out to brush a stray curl back off of his forehead before continuing. "When Molly and I first became acquainted here and she told me about her genius friend, I was simply amazed because his name was very familiar to me. Everyone back in my old universe knew about Sherlock Holmes, the detective who lived at 221B Baker Street. He was quite famous."

"So, you were a _fan_ ," he said the last word with a bit of a sneer and drew back from her a little. For just a moment, a small part of him couldn't help but wonder if that was the only reason why Rose was interested in him now. He dismissed that thought almost immediately, however. The Rose that he knew just didn't care about things like that. Fortunately, her next words seemed to back up that belief!

"Do I look like a fawning fangirl to you?" she exclaimed, shaking her head in disgust. "No, it's nothing like that." She sighed again. "I am not doing a very good job of explaining this, am I? I have thought about it so much since I met you, but I still can't seem to put it into words without making it sound so..." Her voice trailed off here as she thought about it for another moment. She then climbed off of his lap, went to stand at the fireplace, and rested her left hand on the mantle for support before turning around to face him again. She breathed deeply and decided just to jump right in with both feet and hope for the best. "Here it goes, then. In the other universe, it is true that Sherlock Holmes was a famous detective. However, he was not a real person. He was a fictional character in a series of mystery and adventure stories written by a guy named Sir Arthur Conan Doyle!"

Whatever Sherlock had been expecting, it was certainly not that! Consequently, he grew very still when he heard this surprising news. He didn't say, couldn't say, anything for a moment. He just steepled his hands in front of his chin again. "How is that even possible?" he finally whispered, looking up at her in bewilderment.

"How is any of this possible, Sherlock?" she answered gesturing all around her. "When I was nineteen, I would never have believed that deep space, time, and inter-dimensional travel was even possible – much less that I, the shop girl, would do all of that and then spend the rest of my life working with aliens on a parallel Earth with a alternate version of my dead father as my boss!" She paused and met his eyes. She could see his internal struggle reflected there and knew that Sherlock was torn. On one hand, he trusted her and wanted to believe her. However, on the other hand, his logical mind insisted that such a scenario was impossible.

Rose then thought of another way to explain it. "Sherlock, think about everything that I told you about the Rift in Cardiff - if beings and objects can pass through the space, time, and dimensional barriers there, don't you think that _ideas_ should be able to, as well? It is my belief that the _idea_ of the fictional Sherlock Holmes in my first universe bled through across those barriers from the _reality_ of the man sitting before me in this universe. There is also a very good reason why I think that, Sherlock. It is because in my old universe, Holmes wasn't a contemporary character. The stories about him were written in the late 1800s and he was a Victorian gentleman. He dashed about London and the countryside solving mysteries with his companion. Therefore, you weren't the only one who was already familiar to me when we finally met in this universe."

"John," he whispered, still in a bit of shock.

"Oh, yes!" she exclaimed. "The literary Dr. Watson was well known for being Sherlock's right hand man. In the stories, just like in real life,he was good-natured and loyal. However, he was also portrayed, _and please don't ever tell him this_ , as a bit dumpy, a little on the slow side, and having an eye for the ladies!" Rose then paused to smile as Sherlock gave a little snort of amusement at that description. "That's not all, though," she continued. "Ms. Hudson, Mycroft, Lestrade, Mary, and even Moriarty were represented in those stories, as well. Of course, I researched after that first night in the morgue when we met and I found out that the author from my universe, Doyle, was not known as an author here. Here is the catch, though; he was a doctor who was also well known for being a mystic spiritualist who experimented with psychic phenomenon - like telepathy. Now even you just can't disregard that, Sherlock, because you have witnessed firsthand my own telepathic abilities that I received from the TARDIS. I am sure that you remember that naughty thought about us on the sparring mat that you accidently _shared_ with me after our first lunch date." Here she stopped for a minute to grin at him and received a smirk and an unrepentant shrug in return. "Therefore, I think that it is reasonable to assume that Doyle's stories in my old universe were based on visions that he somehow received, or maybe even dreamed, about your real life in this universe. They just ended up being adjusted for the time period in which they were written. That would account for the small differences. It is simply a matter of perception!"

"Did you ever read any of these _stories_?" he asked, still speculative, but now quite intrigued, as well.

"Oh, your ego is going to love this!" she exclaimed with another grin. "The _Sherlock Holmes_ stories were considered classics back over there and some of them were even on the mandatory reading lists for school."

"Is that so?" he asked with the beginnings of a proud smile curling at the edges of his lips.

"Yep!" Rose replied, feeling almost faint with relief that he seemed to be coming around to the idea. "I wasn't a big reader back then, unfortunately, so one of the only ones that I actually remember is _The Hound of the Baskervilles._ Doesn't that sound familiar? Imagine my surprise when I ran across that story in John's blog!"

"Was it similar?" he asked with interest – in spite of himself.

"Well, if you consider someone letting a giant dog run across the moors to scare people to death to be a _similar_ story - then yes, it was! Of course, it didn't have anything like mind-altering drugs dispersed through the air in it because people during that time just would not have understood that. However, from what I remember, yes, it was recognizable as the same basic story."

"Anything else?" he asked, his fingers steepled together again. Rose could practically see him storing this information up in his Mind Palace for further review at a future time.

"Well, the only other one that I have read is _not_ one that I have seen represented in John's blog. However, he was a character in it, too. Therefore, I am thinking that maybe that one just hasn't happened, yet."

"Are you saying that you think the events of that story will eventually be one of my cases in the future?" he asked. She nodded in acquiescence. "Well, what happened in the story, woman?" he then asked, in a tone sharper than he meant for it to be, because his natural curiosity was threatening to overwhelm him.

"Oh, no! I'm not giving away anything that happens in the future," she replied fervently while shaking her head. "And don't take that tone with me! I'm an ex-time traveler, remember? I know the rules better than that and I've caused a major paradox before. While I don't necessarily think that this situation is that serious, I am not taking the chance of _that_ happening ever again!" Here she had to pause and shudder while thinking about the Reapers. Sherlock forgot about the story for a moment as he looked at her with concern. He wondered if she would ever be able to tell him the story behind what was obviously bothering her so much now. She finally shook herself out of her horrified reverie enough to say, "I will ask this, though, have you ever dealt with a case involving a _speckled band_ by any chance?"

"A _speckled band_? No! What is that supposed to be?" he asked excitedly with renewed interest in the story.

"Oh, my dear detective," she said affectionately. "I think that we are just going to have to wait and live through that one when it happens. Maybe I will even help you to solve it - if you are a good boy, that is!" she added teasingly with a look that he just couldn't resist.

"I'll show you a good boy!" he exclaimed, jumping up to grab her suddenly. He then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He bent his head to kiss her, but a sudden thought made him pause in the process, however. He looked down seriously at Rose. "Would you really want to solve cases with me?" he asked while hardly daring to think about how perfect his life would be if that was true.

"Of course, I would!" she exclaimed – and his heart skipped with excitement at hearing those words. "Have you forgotten what we both do for a living? I am only surprised that one of my field assignments hasn't overlapped with one of your cases, yet, or vice versa! Plus, even though it hasn't happened yet, I just assumed that I would be welcome to come with you if a case ever came up while I was here – just like you have done with me and the Torchwood emergencies that we have run into."

Sherlock couldn't help but to grin in happiness at her answer. "Of course, I would want you to come with me if a case should arise. I think that your input and assistance would be most…valuable. After all, you are the most intuitive woman I know."

This statement of his belief in her abilities caused one of those wondrous tongue-touched smiles that he loved so much to cross her face. He found that he couldn't resist the temptation any longer to try and snog it off of her. Truth be told, she didn't seem to mind his efforts to do so, either, and they continued like this for a while until another thought occurred to him about something she had said earlier. It caused him to stop, rather abruptly, much to her displeasure. However, he didn't seem to notice as he asked, "What about your parallel, then? If everybody has a double, what happened to the Rose Tyler of this universe?" He was astonished to see her instantly turn almost red with embarrassment before she answered what he had thought was a simple question.

"Oh, Sherlock," she muttered. "Why do you always need to know everything?" He just quirked an eyebrow at her and that was all of the answer that she needed. She just sighed before replying.

"Well, if you thought that it was awkward to find out that your parallel in the other universe was a famous literary character, then this will definitely make you feel better!" Rose paused to look at him and shook her head in disgust with what she was about to say. "Sherlock, just try to imagine how I felt when I found out that the only Rose Tyler is this universe was Pete and Jackie's _dog_!" she exclaimed and hid her face with her hands, almost overcome with both mortification and exasperation.

He looked at her with disbelief, but he couldn't quite hide the amusement in his eyes. "Are you serious?" he finally managed to say.

"Dead serious," she sighed, removing her hands and looking back up. "It was one of those damn yappy little Yorkshire Terriers, too."

This time he couldn't contain his burst of laughter – even despite her murderous look.

"You were right!" he exclaimed. "That does make me feel better!" He looked over at Rose and couldn't help but to admire the pinkness that her blush of shame had left on her cheeks. "Thank you for telling me the truth," he said honestly, leaning down slightly to kiss one of those pink cheeks. "About both of us," he added – finally showing his acceptance of her startling revelations. "I know that it wasn't easy." He then kissed her again – on the lips this time.

"Nothing is ever easy with you, Sherlock!" she said with feeling, once they parted, with her embarrassment now almost completely forgotten. Her hand reached up to stroke his cheek. "However, it sure is worth it!"

He savored the warm feeling that her words brought to him and he decided to repay her in kind. "Don't tell anybody," he bent down and whispered in her ear, "but I feel the same way about you."

"Ooh, you should be more careful, Sherlock, your _sentiment_ is showing," Rose teased, very pleased to finally have some sort of confirmation of his feelings.

"Maybe a little bit of sentiment isn't such a bad thing, after all, then – especially when you are a classic literary character like I apparently am," he couldn't resist adding in a light and teasing tone.

"Don't forget about all of the movies," Rose added, in the same vein.

That made him pause. "They made films about my adventures, too?" he asked incredulously.

"And TV shows…lots of them…all with incredibly good looking main characters. In fact, I distinctly remember this one BBC actor…mmmph!" Rose didn't get to finish her sentence because Sherlock crashed his lips down on hers, effectively cutting off whatever she was about to say.

"No thinking about other men – even if they are supposed to be me!" He insisted with a familiar dark and heated look in his eyes that made her shiver in anticipation. "In fact, why don't we take this conversation into the bedroom where I can assure you that there will be only one man on your mind?" he murmured against her lips. "You can even bring that book."

"Only if you bring the _hat_ ," she countered with a sly smile and then eagerly bent down to grab the book off of the floor.

"The hat? Is that part of the classic look?" he asked in disbelief as he allowed himself to be pulled across the room, only pausing long enough to pull the requested deerstalker out of a desk drawer.

"Oh, yes," she breathed while watching him settle it upon his head. "What can I say? The classics never go out of style!" With that, she led him the rest of the way to the bedroom. "You don't happen to own a pipe, do you?" she asked hopefully before the door shut firmly behind them.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

I am a huge Sherlock Holmes fan and have read ALL of the classic stories. I am also proud to own all of the SH collections in my personal library.

However, there was a reason why Rose had only read those two mentioned in the story.

That's because as a middle school Language Arts teacher, I always study "The Adventure of the Speckled Band" (1892) with my seventh grade students and _The Hound of the Baskervilles_ (1901) with my eighth grade students. I am happy to say that even the most reluctant readers alway end up enjoying both of them! :)


End file.
